Taking a Gamble on Finding Happiness…

Tinder Loving Care

I’ve never claimed to have my shit together, but I keep hearing from people who know me that, “you really have your shit together and know what you want.” So maybe I do. Or I at least give the appearance that I do, like a serial killer gives the appearance of being a regular ice cream truck driver. Who knows? I don’t think it’s so much that I know what I want as I know what I don’t want, but some days I go to bed thinking that I know what I don’t want and I wake up wanting that exact thing.

I met a lady at work today. She was an old lady with Cancer and Parkinson’s. She asked if there was someone who could help her get her stuff out to the car after she paid for it. I told her I would. She proceeded to tell me about her no good husband of 25 years who was sitting at home and wouldn’t get out to help her. I asked her why she didn’t kick him to the curb, but she said she had been with him for too long and didn’t have long to go anyway. She asked if I was married and I told her I was perpetually single and she told me how smart I was and that I should stay that way.

Then I came home and for some reason was compelled to get on Tinder. And it never fails, the same issues arise on every dating site. Tinder is a little better because you don’t get unwelcome advances. You can only talk to the people who you have “swiped right” and have “swiped right” on your pic. So at least there’s a mutual attraction. One uncomfortable thing about Tinder is when I come across one of my Facebook friends. I find myself at a crossroads. First, I’m like, “What?!? You’re single?” and then I’m having an internal debate about whether to swipe right or left. My first thought is, “it would be rude to swipe left,” but then I think, “it would be awkward to swipe right, right?” Because I could just send a message on Facebook or do that stupid fucking “poke” thing. It was too stressful for me to decide, so I just alternated between left and right when I came to someone I knew…. and there were quite a few. I had no idea so many of my “friends” were eligible bachelors. Clearly I need to pay more attention.

Back to the dating issues: Men…. I don’t understand why men who don’t have their shit together want to go looking for a relationship. Or maybe they are looking for sex only? I don’t really know, and I don’t know if men encounter the same problem with women in the dating scene. I mean, I’m busy at times and I have my own thing going on, but if a guy asks me out and is specific about the time and the day, I’m going to make the time to go, assuming I don’t have to be at work. What kills me is when a guy says, “we should do something sometime.” Ok? When? I don’t want to have to figure it out, because I get pissed when I suggest two or three different days and he can’t find time to do anything until after 8 or 9 at night. Which means I’m not getting home and in bed until after 11 and whether I work or not, I still have to get up at 6:30 every day to get my life started even if I can sleep later. I want a real date. Unless it’s not a date. In which case, I want honesty. I’d rather a guy say, “let’s get together and fuck” and then I can at least know what the intention is. Although at this point I always feel like that’s the intention, and I guess that’s why I haven’t been out in a while. I’m not interested. I’m in my, “I need a connection” phase. Not to be confused with “I need a long term monogamous relationship or a husband” phase that my mom probably thinks I should be in. Actually she thinks I should be in the “you need to find a nice guy” phase of my life by now, but I don’t need a nice guy. I need a guy who gets me. I need a guy who understands that it pisses me off to be called after 10 pm to get together. If you work until 9 and will not be able to end your day without seeing my face, that’s cool. I can live with that. I’ll even cave if we are clicking, but tell me at 3 or 5 that you want to see me. Don’t text me at 9:30. I’m showered and in my pj’s by then and chances are, I probably didn’t shave my legs. IF you text me at 9:30 for your after hours booty call, I am going to say no. Not because I might not want to see you, mostly because I don’t want to have to get back in the shower and shave. And probably I don’t want to see you. I think I’m over meaningless sex. And meaningless conversations. And meaningless people. At least this week, I think I am.

And ironically, I met some really cool and interesting people on Tinder the three hours I was on, but then the app kept making my phone freeze up and I had to restart it, so I just deleted the app and all the connections. Because apparently it is only an app and you can’t go to the website on your browser, at least I don’t think you can, so connections were lost. I guess it’s the Universe’s way of saying, “No, no, no…. it’s not time.” Or maybe I will just take the old lady with Parkinson’s advice and not waste my time on a man because men are fools. And I am a fool, too.